


50 First Loves

by ireadhpinenochian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:20:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3479333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ireadhpinenochian/pseuds/ireadhpinenochian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets injured on a simple hunt gone wrong and loses his short term memory. Following Sam's lead, Cas uses the situation to confess something he's not sure Dean will take well. (Basically the concept of 50 First Dates)</p>
            </blockquote>





	50 First Loves

Dean had been unconscious for three days now. It was unsettling seeing so many tubes and IVs hanging off of him, the constant sounds of beeping breaking the sounds of his breath by machine.

Sam’s eyes were constantly red ringed and puffy, though no one had actually managed to catch him in the act of crying. Pleading with the catatonic figure of his brother in a broken voice, yes, but crying, no.

“Please, man,” the doctors and nurses would hear him whisper, “you can’t go out like this. Not like this.” Quiet, miserable laughter, and then, “You are going to be fucking pissed if you let this be the end.” A dry sob disguised as a cough. “Just a dumb salt and burn.”

Cas, on the other hand, said nothing. In fact, most people didn’t even seem to notice Dean’s statue of a guardian angel (though the term angel hadn’t applied to him in years, now). He just sat there, staring at Dean in that intense way of his.

Sometimes his eyes would harden and his lips would thin. Sam figured that was when he was praying to the Father he wasn’t sure any of them really believed in anymore to bring Dean back. Or, maybe praying wasn’t the right word. Threatening. Demanding.

It was another four days before Dean opened his eyes.

Cas was the one who noticed first.

“Dean,” he said in his gravelly voice, harsher than usual from its disuse. It was the first word he had spoken in a week.

Sam snapped his head around to look at his brother who was staring past them, eyes glazed.

“Nurse!” Sam shouted, pushing the call button and holding it down.

\--

The doctors and nurses had warned them that memory loss could be an issue, that this type of thing was common with head injuries. They were hopeful, though, said it might get better someday, but to prepare themselves for the fact that his short term memory may be gone for good.

Sam was happy to have his brother back, and he’d take him whatever shape he was in, obviously, but he couldn’t help but wish that if he had to have amnesia that maybe it could have blocked out the worse parts of their lives. Give Dean a bit of a break from the guilt and all of the crap that came with the Winchester curse. Their lives were pretty stable now. Sure, they went on hunts, but only when they got restless. For the most part they lived a happy little life in the bunker—so why was it that Dean was never going to get more of the good stuff? He never complained out loud, really, but in the back of his mind he occasionally let go of a few choice curses for whoever had decided to add one more piece of crap to Dean’s already teetering heap.

Cas, though, was just glad that Dean remembered him. He understood, of course, Sam’s lamenting of the circumstances, but Sam seemed to forget that the bad stuff was what had brought Cas to Dean. Perhaps it was selfish of him—no, Cas knew it was selfish of him, but Dean remembered him. Dean remembered everything about him and even though that included the betrayals and abandonments, he wouldn’t have it any other way. It would feel far too much like another betrayal if Cas got to enjoy the benefits of Dean’s friendship without Dean’s full knowledge of everything he had done.

Dean just accepted it. It was hardly the worst thing that could have happened to him, and the doctors were hopeful that things could someday turn around for him. And even if it never did, well, it’s not like he didn’t deserve worse. And besides, it’s not like he really remembered long enough to get really worked up about it.

\--

Things in the bunker went pretty much back to normal. Occasionally Dean would stop in the middle of a conversation and look around, lost and confused for a moment or two, but he accepted his new handicap easily enough when reminded. Sometimes Sam or Cas would find him standing in the middle of a room, hands on his hips and glaring like the very air around him should be telling him why the hell he had gone into that room in the first place.

One day, maybe a month after Dean had been discharged from the hospital, Cas came up with a plan to… take advantage of this new opportunity. It was Sam that gave him the idea, really, when he decided to come clean about that one time when they were both kids and Sam had hidden the Impala’s keys so they couldn’t leave, but it just so happened to coincide with the night those drunk assholes from three rooms down shattered a taillight. John had assumed Dean had taken the Impala out for a joy ride—Sam had meant to say something, to take the blame, but the way John had looked at Dean, the way he had yelled and cursed—Sam had been too scared.

Dean had just laughed it off. “Dude, I already knew that.”

“You did?”

He rolled his eyes. “Sam, you were probably the least sneaky little kid ever. I saw you hide the keys.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam asked. “Why would you take the blame?”

Dean just shook his head and laughed again. “Why the hell are you bringing this up, now? That was forever ago.”

Sam cast his eyes down in shame. “I didn’t want you to hate me… and I figured if you did… you would forget I told you…”

“You’re a fucking moron, Sammy,” Dean told him, but not unkindly.

Since Sam’s revelation seemed to go over well, Cas decided that he would try it out as well. At least this way he would know and the awkwardness would be minimal, since it would last a couple days at the most.

“Dean,” Cas said, knocking on his door. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Sure thing,” he called back. “Door’s open.”

Cas twisted the handle and pushed, taking a few steps in.

“So what’s up?” Dean asked, chucking the magazine he’d been reading onto his nightstand.

Cas stood awkwardly a few feet away from the bed Dean was lounging on and said, “I want to tell you something.”

“Okay…” Dean stretched the word out. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I lo…” Cas started, but found that the rest of his short statement got caught in his throat. This was much harder than he had anticipated. He should have given Sam much more credit for coming clean. Perhaps he should have even prepared himself in front of a mirror. “I,” he tried again, but that was even less successful than his first attempt.

“Is everything alright?” Dean asked, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed in preparation to stand.

“It’s fine,” Cas told him. “It’s just… this is far more difficult than I had anticipated. It is no wonder I haven’t worked up the courage to do this before.”

“Do what?”

Cas fidgeted for a moment and then let out a sharp exhale. He closed his eyes and said, “I love you.”

The backs of Cas’ eyelids did not allow him to see Dean’s reaction, but he figured it was for the best. He didn’t think he could bear seeing Dean’s perfect features morph into disgust.

For a long time there was silence. The hand on his face came as a shock, the gentleness with which he could feel a thumb stroke along the edge of his stubble.

“Cas.” It was breathed along his lips, a warm puff of air that Cas wanted to inhale and keep in his lungs forever as a souvenir. “Open your eyes, Cas.”

Honestly, Cas had forgotten they were closed. He had forgotten he had eyes. He forgot he existed as anything more than the skin Dean’s skin touched, the lips Dean’s breath caressed. It took him a moment to remember where his eyes were and then another to get his brain to send the proper signals to open them wide so that he could stare into the earnest, nervous looking green pair in front of him.

Dean’s mouth turned up into a smile. “I love you, too, Cas.”

There was kissing then. Lots and lots of kissing.

Before their eyes closed for good that night, Dean made Cas promise him something. “Don’t let me forget about this, okay? Remind me every day, every hour if you have to.”

“I promise,” Cas pressed into his lips. “I promise.”

That was number one.

\--

Number two happened with a shouted, “What the hell, Cas?!”

Cas grumbled, cracking one eye open to look at Dean’s angry bordering on confused expression.

“Dude, I know I cut you some slack when you were an angel staring at me in my sleep, but buddy, it is not normal to crawl into another man’s bed and…and…” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “cuddle with them!”

Laughing softly, Cas let a smile spread across his face. “You were the one who wanted to cuddle,” he told him. “Don’t worry, I already promised I would never tell Sam your,” he lifted his hands up to make air quotes, “’secret shame.’”

Confusion was winning out over the anger on Dean’s face, but Cas knew it was only a matter of time before it turned into bluster so he decided it would be best if he stopped teasing and explained. He sighed and placed a gentle hand on Dean’s stubbled cheek. “A little over a month ago we went on a hunt,” Cas began, and then proceeded to explain Dean’s new condition. He and Sam had perfected the speech and had it down to about three minutes, accounting for Dean’s questions.  
“…and so you made me promise that I would remind you every day.”

Silence stretched out between them, but Dean didn’t recoil from Cas’ touch, which he took as a victory.

Finally, Dean broke the silence. “You really love me?”

Cas leaned in and kissed him. “For a very, very long time now.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked. “So how long has this,” he gestured his hand between the two of them, “been going on?”

“Since yesterday.”

Dean laughed. “I thought you just said it’s been going on for a while?”

Cas squinted at him. “I said I’ve loved you for a very long time. Yesterday happened to be the day that I told you about it. Upon seeing your reaction, I do wish I had told you sooner, but I no longer have the ability to time travel.”

“And how did I react yesterday?”

“Much better than you did today,” Cas told him, his voice serious. “There was no yelling, for one.”

Dean shoved his arm. “Shut up,” he said. “You try waking up to someone in bed.”

“I would very much like to do that for the rest of my life.”

Dean blushed bright red. “Shit, Cas. You can’t just say things like that.”

“I believe I just did,” he replied and leaned in to kiss him once more.

\--

Numbers three, four, and five went much the same way. The sixth time, Sam found out.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam called, bursting into his room. “Where do you keep the—OH GOD!”

“Fuck, Sam! Don’t you know how to knock?” Dean shouted angrily from his position bent nearly in half underneath Cas.

Sam smacked his hands over his eyes, continuing his horrified screaming of, “Oh god! My eyes!”

“Get out,” Cas managed to grit through his teeth.

“Right, yeah,” Sam mumbled, bumping into the wall a few times on his way out, completely unwilling to remove his hand from his eyes lest he somehow manage to see through his eyelids. It’s not like this was the first time Sam had caught Dean having sex, but it was definitely the first time Sam caught him taking it up the ass from his best friend.

Sam was debating whether he should go to the bathroom and try to wash his eyes out with every last ounce of soap in the bunker, or just go all in and gouge his eyes out with whatever was on hand in the kitchen. In the end he decided to get a cup of coffee and try and forget the last ten minutes. For the first time, he was really envying Dean’s short term memory loss.

Cas and Dean stumbled into the kitchen about twenty minutes later, giggling and still groping each other. Sam immediately averted his eyes and cleared his throat loudly.

“Oh, hey, Sammy!” Dean said jovially, all embarrassment forgotten, apparently.

“Is there any coffee left?” Cas asked, leaving Dean’s side to check the pot. “Dean, would you like some?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Dean said, opening up the fridge. “I’m in the mood for burgers, what about you guys?”

Cas grinned. “That sounds enjoyable—“

“Seriously?” Sam cut in.

They both turned to look at him in confusion.

“What’s your problem, Sammy? I was going to make one for you, too.”

“No, it’s not—it’s just—seriously? Five minutes ago you were,” he began making a gesture with his hands, but thought better of it and let them fall back to the table, “you know, and now you’re not even going to talk about it?”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You want to have a talk with us? About our relationship?”

“Well, no, but just—have you guys talked about it? I mean, how long has this been going on? Will you even remember any of this tomorrow, Dean?”

Cas handed Dean a mug of coffee and said, “This is the sixth day we’ve been together. I promised Dean that I wouldn’t let him forget about it.” He took a sip from his own cup and looked over at Sam.

“So you’re just going to tell him about it every day?”

Cas smiled. “Yes.”

“But—“

“But what, Sam?” Dean asked.

“Well, I just mean,” Sam said in a small voice. “What happens a year from now? Can you really—“

“Yes,” Cas said. “Dean and I are both well aware of his memory problems. But I hardly see how it matters.”

Sam looked between the two of them for a few minutes. “Okay,” he conceded. “If this is what makes you guys happy, then I’m all for it. Seriously.” He stood up and grabbed his coffee. “But for the love of god, next time put a sock on the door.”

“It’s called knocking, bitch. It’s not my fault you don’t have any manners.”

Sam, who had been making his retreat, turned around at the door to call back, “Says the man who raised me without them. Jerk.” And then he was past the door and on his way to the library.

Once Dean was sure that he was out of ear shot he turned to Cas with a worried look written into the lines of his face.

Cas narrowed his eyes and lowered the mug he had been just about to drink from. “What is it?”

Dean bit his lip. “I dunno,” he said. “The way Sam was talking… I kind of see his point.”

“He has no point,” Cas bit out, harsh. He paused to collect himself for a moment with a deep breath. “I know that the situation is not perfect, but that does not change how I feel about it. How I feel about you.”

“But what if you get tired of living my first day with me?”

“I won’t,” Cas said.

“How do you know that, Cas?” Dean asked. “How can you know what you’re going to feel like in a year?”

“I just know,” Cas told him. “Of course I regret not telling you sooner, but this just means that every morning when I wake up and see your adorably confused expression,—“ Dean choked on the sip of coffee he had taken, opening his mouth to argue against his being termed adorable, but Cas continued without giving him the chance, “—I get to tell you that I love you, and every morning I’ll get to see your confusion make way for your happiness. I have very much enjoyed seeing that these past six days, and I can’t imagine a day when I will not enjoy seeing you return my feelings. I will get to have all of your first ‘I love you’s, all of your first kisses.”

“Don’t you think you’ll get tired of all of these firsts?”

“Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I like having them,” he admitted, breaking eye contact for the first time. “You have all of mine,” he added softly.

Dean sighed in acquiescence and leaned in close to kiss him.

\--

“So you never get tired of living the same day?” Dean asked Cas. The two of them were sitting on the couch watching a Doctor Sexy marathon at Dean’s insistence that Cas needed to watch the show that first made him question his own sexuality. Cas didn’t have the heart to tell him that he’d seen all of these episodes before. It was the twenty-sixth time Dean had fallen in love with him, after all. “I mean, Bill Murray started going crazy in Groundhog’s Day.”

Cas narrowed his eyes in a squint and turned to look at Dean. Dean had made them watch the movie in question two weeks prior. Perhaps this had been the point all along? “I don’t know what you mean. I’m not living the same day. If anything, you are the one living the same day over and over.”

“But that’s the thing!” Dean said. “I can’t remember living the same day over and over, but you’re stuck with me and you remember everything. Doesn’t it get boring?”

Cas tilted his head to the side and Dean’s heart clenched at the sight of his classic Cas. “Why would I get bored?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I guess after spending a millennia as an angel watching the earth travel around the sun again and again a few days watching me are nothing, huh?”

“I was stationed on earth,” Cas said. “I could feel the rotation and sense its orbit around the sun, but I never watched it.”

Dean shook his head, but he couldn’t stop the grin from spreading over his face.

“Besides, we are not living the same day,” Cas continued. “Yesterday we watched a Spanish soap opera.”

“Shit, no wonder I’m getting pudgy if all we do all day is watch television.” Dean poked his stomach morosely.

“Stop that,” Cas said, swatting Dean’s hand away. “I like it. Besides, we get workouts in.”

“We work out together?” Dean asked.

“I was making a euphemism, Dean,” Cas replied with a sly smirk. “Although, I do believe the athletic sex we have is quite a good way to burn calories.”

“I walked in at the wrong part of that conversation,” Sam said, coming into the living room and taking a seat on a chair across the room from them.

“Aw, Sammy, you prude.”

“You can call me a prude all you want, Dean, but I do not want to hear what type of sex my brother and my best friend are having behind closed doors. I hear too much as it is.”

“Apologies,” Cas said. “How was class?”

“Class?” Dean looked between Cas and Sam with a suspicious crease between his brows.

Cas calmly turned to Dean. “Sam has enrolled in the community college here.”

“What, seriously?” Dean asked.

Sam sighed. “Yes. It’s just a few classes, to, you know, see if it’s something I can still do.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I’ve been a hunter for too long, Dean. I just want to see if school is something I still want to do.”

“Oh,” Dean said. “Well… is it?”

Sam raised his gigantic shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe? Today was only the first day, so I’m just trying to get back into the hang of things.”

Silence fell into the room, unsure and slightly tense.

Sam finally broke it with a soft, “Is this going to be a problem?”

“Well, I mean you kind of sprung it on me,” Dean said, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“It’s not like I can give you few days warning anymore.”

“No, no, yeah—I get that—just—“ Dean took a deep breath. “If it’s what you want, then yeah, man. Go for it. It’s not like I can hunt with my brain all scrambled, and there’s no way I’m letting you go on hunts alone.” He paused for a moment and rubbed the back of his neck. “Besides… I guess… I mean… You deserve to get your happy ending, Sammy.” His eyes darted over to Cas and they all knew the ‘like me’ was implied.

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam said quietly. “Seriously.”

“Okay,” Dean said in a loud voice, clapping his hands together. “Moment over! I’m starved, what’s there to eat?”

Cas gave Dean’s leg a quick pat and stood up. “I’ll go reheat some leftovers. I think we still have some pot roast from Monday.”

Once he was gone, Sam turned to Dean. “I’m glad you got your happy ending, too, Dean.”

Dean let himself sink back into the couch with a loud groan. “Did you not hear me call moment over?” he demanded, but Sam just laughed and got up to give Cas a hand in the kitchen.

\--

“Uh, Cas?” Dean said, poking said sleeping former angel in the arm. Cas cracked an eye open to peer up at him. “Not that I don’t love that you decided to stay in the bunker with us, but what the hell are you doing in my bed with me?”

Cas sighed and sat up, mumbling, “But you had been doing so well.”

“What was that?” Dean asked, trying hard to look away from Cas’ bare chest.

The speech rolled off of Cas’ tongue with practiced ease. “But the doctors are hopeful,” he tacked on at the end. “You went the past five days without forgetting anything major.”

“Fuck,” Dean let out with a sigh. Then he turned to look back at Cas. “So me and you, huh?”

Cas broke out into a gummy smile. “Yes.”

“Sam’s cool with it?”

“He’s very happy for us,” Cas assured him. “Except for when he can hear us. Then I suspect he is quite frustrated.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed.

“He has begun threatening to move out,” Cas said.

That stopped Dean short. “Is he, uh, serious about that?”

Cas ran a hand through Dean’s hair and sighed. “He’s been taking classes at a community college. He’s thinking about applying to KU.”

Dean put his head in his hands. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Is every morning this much of a rollercoaster?”

“Recently, yes,” Cas replied. “I’m sorry. If it is any consolation, you have been very happy for Sam these past five days when your memory remained intact.”

“Sure I wasn’t lying?” Dean let out a hollow laugh. “Fuck. Okay. I’m being an idiot.”

“You’re just processing,” Cas said. “And you have a lot to process.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he muttered.

Cas leaned over and placed a kiss on Dean’s forehead. “I believe you started keeping a journal a few weeks ago. It’s on your nightstand. I’ll go make some breakfast.”

Dean stared as Cas’ bare backside came into view and was quickly obscured by a pair of grey boxer briefs. He must have voiced his annoyance because Cas turned around to smirk at him before grabbing a robe and leaving the room.

“Fuck,” Dean muttered, falling back onto his pillows. He stayed like that for another couple of minutes before he rolled over to face his nightstand. He grabbed the promised journal and ran his fingers over the smooth brown leather. It reminded him of a newer version of his dad’s journal, only this one would be filled with random facts about his daily domestic life instead of the best way to take down a newly transformed rugaru or the quickest way to exorcise a demon.

“Fuck, this is weird,” Dean muttered as he cracked the journal open to the first page. He looked down and read in his own writing:

_Fuck, this is weird._

Dean let out a small laugh. At least losing his memory didn’t mean he was losing his winning personality.

_Sam suggested that I start writing in a journal instead of complaining about how I won’t remember shit in the morning. It’s just weird trying to write about stuff that’s not how to gank monsters—But I’m going to suck it up and write this journal no matter how lame it is because I am sick and tired of losing the little things._   
_Cas baked me a pie today. When I asked him why he just did that classic Cas head tilt and squint and said, “Because I love you.”Like it was the most normal thing ever – like I was the weird one for thinking there had to be more. I mean, sure, it was a little burnt and half of it bubbled over the side and is now crusted to the bottom of the oven, but still. Pie._

_He says it’s the 29th time we’ve ~~fallen in love~~ gotten together. He says he’ll never get tired of telling me. I hope that’s the truth._

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and let out the breath he’d been unconsciously holding. His stomach gave a loud rumble and he figured he should probably go and eat. He could come back and read the journal later… Maybe just one more.

He flicked to the last entry.

_It’s been 5 days!_ The writing was messier than usual, the words running together as if he had written it in a hurry. _I thought the doctors were lying, but maybe I am getting better. Maybe I will get to keep everything. Sam and Cas both say I should keep writing though, just in case. So here goes:_

_Remember to be happy for Sam. He’s applying to go to KU in the fall and knowing him and what a fucking nerd he is, he’ll definitely get in. It won’t be like last time, though. He promised. He’s going to keep in touch and it’s not like he’s going to be far away. And he’s happy about it. That’s all that matters._

_And anyway, I’ve got Cas now. I won’t be alone this time. I love him so fucking much._

Dean quickly wiped away the lone tear that had managed to escape from his eyes and cleared his throat as if someone was there to judge him for getting choked up. Deciding the rest of the passage could wait, he took a couple of deep breaths to finish composing himself. His stomach was still rumbling so he quickly threw on a pair of sweat pants and made his way to the kitchen.

Cas turned from where he was plating a rather large stack of pancakes when Dean walked in.

“Hello, Dean,” he said. “Would you mind grabbing the syrup?”

Dean ignored him and kept walking until he was standing right in front of Cas, blocking him in against the counter.

“Dean,” Cas murmured with a smirk. “Personal space?”

“How many times is this, Cas?” Dean asked, fitting his hands on Cas’ hips and pulling him forward, ensuring that their personal space was completely obliterated.

Cas circled his arms around Dean’s shoulders. “Fifty,” he replied.

“Fifty,” Dean repeated with awe. “Fifty first loves, huh?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re still not sick of me?”

Cas pulled Dean’s forehead down to rest it against his own. “That’s not even a possibility.”

Dean kissed him then, slow and long and just on the cusp of indecent.


End file.
